


The Key to You (English Version)

by hieroglyphics



Category: True Detective
Genre: Anal Sex, Comfort, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Light Bondage, Light Choking, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 12:04:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10944132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hieroglyphics/pseuds/hieroglyphics
Summary: Marty needs to read Rust.He finds out sex may be another way to approach the man.





	The Key to You (English Version)

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [The Key to You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8646391) by [hieroglyphics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hieroglyphics/pseuds/hieroglyphics). 



> A translation of excerpt of my TD fic”The Key to You”.Sorry again for my bad English and mistakes.

Marty wonders what he is in Rust’s eyes. Partner, friend or just a shtup buddy?

The question never bothered him before. They were working partners,maybe more closely than any other colleagues because that guy, after all, occupied most of his time of a day.He never worried about what he was like in his partner’s view. Rust is a hedgehog in personal relationships. He needs no one and no one needs him either,that’s his problem. Most of the time they got along well and cooperated efficiently and Marty was quite satisfied with his communicating skills. In the last two years of their partnership they were so familiar with each other that they even come to a tacit understanding. Rust takes him as a partner - that means he’s more tolerant and close with Marty than anyone else, and Marty believed that Rust treated his own family no better than that. Sometimes he felt Rust squinting at him with sarcasm, but he tried to ignore it. Considering that Rust despised 90% of the world, that actually meant nothing.

That’s a golden time,literally. Marty thinks. They are friends already,sharing confidence and relaxation,though unaware of it at that time. 

But is that all?

There’re some very moments,they intruded into the dubious space unexpectedly.Boundaries were blurred, the well-maintained balance between them teetering. Some nameless thing beneath was wriggling. But Marty dodged it instinctively. He left the memories into selective-inattention.

But now the question gradually occupied his mind. He’s anxious to know the closest man of him. He’s anxious to find out what Rust thinks of him. That’s the most important thing for him now.

He knows in front of Rust he’s as clear as an opened book. Marty’s never good at this. He’s never good at reading people. Or,he’s more concerned about his own feelings than others. Rust and Maggie had already discovered his problem, but he blindfolded his own eyes. However,years of the PI work grows him up a lot. He pays more attention to others,subtle expressions and movements,hidden truth behind the lies.

But Rust is always a mystery. He is a fortress,an abyss.Shadows and sparks are winding and wandering in the dark.Sometimes Marty feels the wall of Rust,so thick that his efforts to explore often resolves into a weak puff.

He often ponders over this these days. Anxiety and imbalance harass him,like little claws scratching his heart.

He needs to read Rust.

Recently,he finds out sex may be another way to approach the man.

Rust has come back to his life.From partner, friend to sex mate.An incredible process to others but natural for themselves.  
Before Rust’s reappearance, Marty rarely enjoys the pleasure of sex.A decade has passed since Maggie left,he never expect himself to ignite for another one. And the person is his fucking partner,the man strangely entangled with him for many years.

He, Marty Hart, once known as the stallion and “tampon” among his colleagues,is incurably obsessed by a man,it almost scares himself. he doesn’t repulse homosexuality before but never attempts to try. But once it starts,he can’t help but slide down, like on a roller coaster,let himself be carried away by the irresistible gravity.

They’ve spent a whole day in the bedroom.He explores Rust greedily with hands and lips,of every inch of his skin, every heart throbbing and wheezing.Suppressed too long,they both get lost in the the endless abyss of sensation. Every minute is pure pleasure for them, without any anxiety or guilty from the past.

Marty is ashamed to admit he’s thinking of Rust all day, missing his moaning and breath, his muscles and skin.His body gets in his wet dreams every night. Marty is confused by the huge changes of himself.There’s something going on there that he can’t explain. 

But he doesn’t worry too much. He tells himself that is much healthier than the previous affairs with women, at least it does good to both of them.

When they were still work partners many years ago - he hadn’t realized that their world was crumbling then - Marty thought that Rust’s problem was innate frigidity,but now he realizes how wrong he was.

Rust isn’t allergic to sex.Marty is even surprised at his craving. Whenever they tangling together,Rust never disguise his desire - wild and forthright, even unscrupulous. He opens his body with desperation and indulgence, as if every moment is the last time before separation, but seldom expects emotional response from the other man in the whole process and after - Marty is unused to it. He had the experience of pursuit for pure sensory satisfaction before, but even the craziest woman can’t compare with Rust. Marty doesn’t know if that’s a common fault of making love with a man,but he can’t content himself with so little communication and gentle caressing, even it’s so uncontrollable to drag him down.

Marty wishes himself to be the one possesses the attachment and dependence of Rust and - at least at that moment - the focus of Rust’s attention, the only one in his eyes. He comes to realize his possessiveness to the other man, which has been strange to himself for a long time, is brewing quietly.

Perhaps the bed-time is the most honest moment of them. When Rust briefly unloads his armor, Marty is able to glimpse his heart. Like a ray of light leaking from a closed window.

These moments enable Marty to understand him more. Every little feeler, every subtle response,is another small step in the mysterious continent of Rust.

*

It’s not the first time Marty loses contact with Rust.

The work of investigating is far from complicated and they often do their job separately, only keeping contact by phone calls and simple messages.That’s their habits from years of working alone and ensures efficiency. Appropriate private space is good for both of them. Marty has faith in the competence of his partner,he has never seen any situation Rust can’t cope with alone - except for THAT case. He persuades himself not to worry. But Rust doesn’t come back. Without the familiar smoke and plods of his footsteps, his harangues humming in Marty’s ears, the house suddenly empty a lot. Marty never thought he can’t stand the feeling of waking up alone at night anymore, like being abandoned in the cold desert.

Cicadas are singing fitfully outside the window.Memories before decades suddenly come to him - cicadas crying weakly in the postmeridian sun, he’s waiting fretfully behind the steering wheel, chewing a strawberry gum Audrey left in his pocket. His eyelids are so heavy to close when Rust pulls the door open and get in, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, face weary and icy.Just a squint to him let Marty perish the thought of asking.The asshole’s nailed, drive. - as if they are only two parts of a machine,no need to share the feelings. They turn to the road when Marty finds with a glance that Rust has relaxed and close his eyes. There’s a little drop of blood on his cuff.

They had seven years to get on, but most of the time Marty only watches the profile of his face.

Marty can’t stay in his chair any longer. He grabs the car key and strides to the door. Damn it,he must go to look for the man himself, and if necessary, he won’t hesitate to disturb the former colleagues on Saturday night - just then there’s a rustle of familiar wheels outside the door .

Rust gets down his truck and heads into house,brushing past Marty, deliberately ignores the man’s staring eyes fixing on him.Marty waits until he drops his briefcase and settles in the chair with a bottle of beer. “what happened?”

“Duran’s lawyer changed his mind at the last minute, so I had to go for another heir.A crook, but it’s settled.”

“Well, you know I don’t care about that, why didn’t you contact me?”

“I thought you’d be glad to get the check.”

Marty feels his heart throbbing fast. “You know what I mean.Three days, no messages, no calls. you know how many times I phoned you?”

“Sounds of the phone would be trouble.”

Marty begins to walk around. “I know, I just want a word - telling me you’re all right.”

“Does it make difference?”

Marty knows he’s kicking up a fuss himself, but he can’t stop.

“How many times - You know I’m worrying for you - Have you ever stop to think for even a fucking minute,that you aren’t alone now?

”

Rust stares at him, his eyes shining intensely but unintelligibly.That reminds Marty of the look when he stepped to the police car after long time of waiting, leaving all the secrets behind; or in the interrogation room, shading others in his shadow.

“You never complained about it before.”

You want me to speak out? OK then.Marty takes a deep breath. God knows how long he has been preparing for this.

“We’ve both changed a lot,no longer what we used to be. We’ve been through all these and you still can’t get that you’re with me now?”

“What,we’ve fucked so you think you can tether me with a dog leash?”

He stands up and makes his way to the door. Marty feels his blood boiling in head.He grips Rust’s arm, the bottle rolls across the floor. Rust’s face quivering in his vision, he has no ideas of what he’ll do next, a punch in the cheek or a direct tackling to the ground.

“Fuck you,Rust."He just clenches his teeth and puffs from nose.

Rust gazes at him,hawk-like. The next second he grabs Marty’s collar, shoving him to the wall and biting his lips, fingers groping his belt.

"Fine, let’s see what you can do.” when they have to separate for air, Rust gasps.

*

Marty wraps Rust around with arms from behind,lets him lean against his chest,their legs twining together. They writhe in the sheets until finding the best position,and begin to move.

They start moving with a slow pace, Rust grinds his hips lazily, that makes Marty light-headed like tossing and waving in a boat.  
Marty quicken his movements. Rust struggles to keep his pace, but passively taken away by Marty’s rhythm. He’s rolling with Marty,but the tied hands makes it difficult to keep balance, he has to lean on the other man for support. Marty’s arms hold him tightly, lifting him up by the waist every time bumping into him.

Marty runs his hand along Rust’s rolling ribs, coming up to his chest and rubbing the inflamed nipples,while the other hand wandering from his hair to the cheek. His fingers grope Rust’s lips and parting them open. Rust takes the fingers in his mouth,sucking and licking them as Marty teasing his soft tongue. He’s breathing sharply, but hardly makes a clear sound from the occupied mouth .

Marty blindly bites and kisses Rust’s nape and shoulder, all his senses were swept away by the flaming fever. His hand grips Rust’s neck unconsciously, feeling the man’s pulse fluttering wildly,his hot breath puffing in his palm. Marty’s utterly overwhelmed by the feeling of tightly constricted by the inside of the other man,an current of ecstasy goes from his dick to temple, white sparks flashing behind his eyes.

That’s only a short moment, but he feels Rust’s body freezing, lips open. He looses his hands and turns Rust’s face to him. Rust’s staring blankly,eyes wide and glassy. Marty cups his face, calling his name softly.

Rust closes his eyes for a while, trembling, as if just coming out from the deep water, then focus his gaze on Marty.

“Please, Marty,” he breathes out, “Please.”

His untouched cock is still hard. Marty intentionally delays for a moment.He’s grazing Rust’s neck, leaving little red imprints there while reaching out to run his fingers on the other man’s belly and inside of his thighs, deliberately leaving the sensitive parts until Rust almost loses his voice with burning lust. Then Marty holds the whole length of Rust in hand and works it carefully, matching the rhythm with his steady thrusts in him. Rust’s bucking into his hand,his shivering whimpers ignite Marty of all his nerves.

Marty doesn’t remember if he had experienced such a crazy sex before - even with the weird Beth. He’s approaching the edge. Oh Jesus –

Suddenly Rust’s whole body twitches,breath pausing, his warm torrent wets Marty’s hands. In a minute, Marty follows him to come.

Marty unties his belt and lets Rust lie on his chest, waiting their wild heartbeats to calm down. He still buries in Rust,just wants to stay a little longer.

Rust is breathing quietly.This unruly man now wholly belongs to him, Marty is the only one he needs, the only one can make him happy.The thought brings a taste of sweet pride to Marty’s tongue.

Rust is slumping in his arms, bleary and limp as a cat.His eyes half closing, face buried on Marty’s shoulder. Marty can’t recall Rust like this in his memory, so meek and soft like melted butter. He’s enchanted by the magic moment, can’t help caressing the man by his hands and lips. But he’s still upset.He’s afraid Rust has been lost in other side of time,where he can’t follow. He kisses him, repeating his name, until his eyes opens again.

“You all right?” Marty whispers in his ear. “You just drifted away, Rust.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t do that, just don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Marty strokes his hair. “I’ve never -”

“I know,” Rust shifts a little, but doesn’t intend to leave his arms. “Not your problem, it’ s me.I wanna burn you up.”

“… used to like this before - with guys, roughly. That kept me moving on,don’t know why.”

Marty loses his words. He lowers his eyes and kisses the red marks of belt on Rust’s wrists. “That could happen to anyone, it means nothing.”

Rust feels guilty every time seeing Marty like this.He knows Marty is sad for him.

“Sometimes worse. I kill, cheat, betray, destroy all those who approached me.”

He lips twitches a little. “Now you know, that’s what I am. Deserving no mercy.”

Marty is silent. Rust’s heart sinks. He has never been so desperate for the warmth of another body, never feels so deeply bonded with the man beside him - that what they’re now - the bonds’re so deep in bones,the abscission will bleed him, but if there would be a day of their separation, he’d rather take the pain now.

Marty finally opens his mouth.his voice goes hoarsely.

“You’re a killer, traitor, psycho, or junky, you’re Jack the Ripper, you’re AL Capone, that’s no matter.You underestimate me.Listen, whatever you say, I know who you are. You’re my partner, my friend, my …fucking Rust Cohle,the damn asshole who always drives me crazy. "He shakes his head. "You’ll never scare me.”

Rust’s heart speeds up. he can’t raise his voice. “If you don’t like…”

“God, you’ve almost killed me.” Marty rubs his own forehead with the back of his hand. “I mean, it ’s so fucking good,better than the best, but I’m not sure it’s what I want, don’t wanna hurt you.'

Marty blushes a little, turning his eyes aside. “I prefer to have your hands on me as before,just… wanna make you happy.”

Rust is quiet, then reaches out to turn the other man’s face to him.

“Me too.”

He sends his words into Marty’s lips with breath. The kiss lasts for some time until they forget how to breathe. When they part, Marty tastes the sweetness of blood.

“Are you hurt?” He examines Rust’s lips.

“No, it’s you,” Rust says, holding his hand. Only then Marty feels a slight tingling, his middle finger is hurt by Rust’s teeth, blood beads have been congealed on the wound. Rust takes his wounded finger to his lips and licks it softly.

When Rust’s watering eyes looks up into his, Marty forgets everything. The only thing he remembers is they falling down on the mattress and he covers himself on the other man, and the taste - the flavor of Rust - is what he’ll never be sated.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from "The Key to You"by David Benoit.


End file.
